naive

Love is an art that plays tricks with time
Compressing, expanding, doubling back and every now and then it stops
Fixed, finite, filled up with experience
Beautifully spanning seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months, years even centuries
Expressing a need, a wish or a delusion
Seized by an instant unwelcome and new understanding

A canvas of a sensitive, devastating portrait
A bleeding sun melting under its own heat
Casting shadows where they shouldn’t be
The magnificence of a star drowned in sudden crisis
Everything paused, suspended in curious limbo
The quintessence of a frozen moment